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Saturday, June 11, 2011

It's Six Sentence Sunday Again. A bit about this snippet...Sunny spent the evening listening to the Mike and the band practice as well as joining Mike on a few Neil Diamond songs. They all shared pasta at Sunny's cabin. After the guys left, Mike and Sunny shared coffee and moonlight on the deck...

“I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun. Thanks,” she said,
looking up at the half moon shining above.
“Me, too. You have a great voice. Draws, paints and sings. A
Renaissance woman,” he said, smiling into her eyes.
“You guys are amazing. I can’t sing a cappella like that.”
“Have you tried? Don’t know till you try,” he said, watching
the moonbeams catch the glow of her hair.
“No, I haven’t. There are so many things I haven’t tried yet…”
she sighed.
“Here’s one you can take off the list,” he said, leaning over
and kissing her.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Homer, my pug, asked me to post a quiz today (yes, he knows the word "post") and who am I to refuse a creature with this wonderful face?

Can you come up with the names of AFI's top 100 movies these lines came from?1. "You talkin' to me?"
2. "What we've got here is a failure to communicate."
3. "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!"

Monday, June 6, 2011

Confessions and Lies Wednesday has been cancelled. Excerpts from works-in-progress, quizzes, Homer's Corner, and other mayhem will be substituted instead.

We're continuing the free reads today. Several Astraea Press authors write short stories to word prompts. So far we have used ice cream and post office. This week the word prompt is chignon. Read the snippets and click on the author's name to get to the rest of the story. We'd love it if you left a comment, tell us if you like the stories or should we post something else?

Jack struggled to focus on the machine. Just a few months before Jack urged the Jasper and Myrtle to purchase a new register. The one they had was ancient and bad need of repair. This was the brand new machine. What could be wrong with it?

Kevin opened the refrigerator, unsurprised when he found regiments of food stored there. Soda bottles lined the wall on the right; in front of those, cans of soda. On the other side, two rows of yogurt containers held the line with a carton of milk. It looked a bit like a chess game being played between health food and junk food.

"Congealed blood blackened Aunt Edith’s silk blouse. Its underlying color was unrecognizable. I only knew it was supposed to be green because she wore it during our unfriendly dinner the previous evening and I remembered."

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Nina applied her lipstick. She was wearing a tiny flower print cotton sundress in pink, tangerine and white. The scoop-neck bodice fit snugly and the skirt was full, making her waist appear narrower than it was. She applied the dark pink translucent lipstick and admired herself in the mirror, glancing at the picture taken of her five years earlier, taped on the mirror by Henry. Her long hair in a chignon, fifteen pounds heavier, wearing a dowdy dress, she looked matronly. She was amazed at the transformation her friendship with Clint accomplished. She was glowing, appearing years younger, even to her own critical eye. Of course the slimmer figure and more flattering hairstyle didn’t hurt. But she knew Clint’s attention had much to do with her reinvention. “Come tonight for a celebratory dinner. I’m barbecuing. We’re halfway with the play. Uncorking the champagne at 6,” was the message on her answering machine this morning.

For the past ten days she had spent every day working with Clint on his play. They sat around talking, arguing, reciting, writing, crossing out, erasing, sitting with nothing to say and then interrupting each other constantly. The creative process.

Clint wrote the words and Nina recited them. She encouraged him with every look, every word. The supportive environment they created was healing…for her, too. She couldn’t stop smiling, even the man at the grocery store noticed. They were together night and day, finding excuses to stay for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m trying a new recipe for French beef stew tonight, won’t you come by?” she asked.

“I’ve got to use up these sausages. I’m grilling them for lunch but there are too many for me alone. Won’t you stay?” he said.

The creation of the play was progressing rapidly and Nina was falling in love with Clint. She didn’t mean to, didn’t want to, but couldn’t help it. Sharing the play with him, something she could never share with Henry, created a bond, a connection she couldn’t deny. He was filling a place in her heart, a spot that had been empty for years.

“I know, Fran, I know. I’m not in love with him…a little crush maybe. He’s attractive…like…yes, yes…you know. I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same way, we’re just friends. I’m not going to get hurt…how can I? No, no expectations, but…I can’t help it,” she confided to her best friend. She took great care getting dressed and applying makeup to look like she wasn’t wearing any. At six o’clock she tucked her lipstick into a small purse and walked out the back door of her house.

****

When he was with Nina, Clint wasn’t shy or uncertain, he forged ahead with his story, writing quickly, waiting to hear her read what he wrote. He was stimulated, not discouraged. The intensity between them was palpable and it was the driving force behind the creation of the play.

At four o’clock, Clint shaved for the first time in two days and put on aftershave. That stuff always made him feel sexy.I’m kissing her tonight. He felt strangely nervous, like he was picking up his first date for a dance. But Nina was far from a first date. She was an experienced woman. He smiled. Making love to a much younger woman could be a drag. Older women knew more, he figured. They knew their own bodies and knew his body, too. Or they should! The idea made his pulse quicken. It would be his first time making love to a woman so much older than he, still, it excited him. “Okay, Dan. I get it. I know how old she is, so what? She acts like she’s thirty…and she’s built. Yeah. I know. Look I only told you because you bugged me, so shut up, okay? Have you ever had an older woman? Then how do you know?” He best friend was snide…implying Nina was hard up. But someone who looked like her…acted like her…could never be hard up. He wasn’t sure she would sleep with him, but he was hoping. He had a crush on her from the first night they met. Working with her every day made keeping his hands to himself almost impossible. The strain…if he didn’t have the play to distract him…well, this would have happened a while ago…if she was willing. “No, Joanne, look, I’m not a baby, just your baby brother. Yes. No. The intensity is amazing…she is amazing. You’d love her. You don’t need to tell me…I know what I’m…let me finish a sentence…Joanne? Calm down. I’m not getting married, I’m making her dinner. That’s right. Don’t ask me that…it’s none of your business. I know…I love you, too. Bye.” Clint put a short sleeve button down shirt over his broad shoulders while thinking about her. When they were together, he drank in Nina’s support, gulping it down as fast as she could pour it out. He knew she captured a small piece of his heart…the only piece left undamaged by his divorce, though he wouldn’t admit it to his friend or his sister.

He thought he saw a twinkle in her eye once or twice but he wasn’t sure. Was it there because he wanted it to be or was it real? Their chemistry was real. He felt it like a bolt of lightning every time he was with her, standing next to her, sitting on the sofa together, thighs brushing…and tonight he was going to find out if this fantasy of his could become real.

(to be continued next Tuesday)

****

A little bit about Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights

Do you have someone in your past you would like to reconnect with? Caroline Davis White wasn't looking for Mickey, now Mike Foster, her childhood crush, she was fleeing her philandering husband, seeking peace and quiet, time to reflect on changing her life. But there was Mike, saving her from a mishap...again, bigger than life and even more handsome.

A well-known artist, Sunny thought she could escape, disappear back to the cabin where she spent her summers as a child. But she was wrong. Her husband refused to let her go. There hadn't been a divorce in Brad White's family...ever! And he wasn't about to start breaking the tradition now. Could Caroline shake him loose and what about Mike? Where did he fit into her life?

Today we have Elizabeth Black visiting us. Tell us something about yourself:

Elizabeth Black's erotic fiction has been published by Romance Divine, Circlet Press, Excessica, Xcite (U. K.), Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, Scarlet Magazine (U. K.), Torquere Press, and Fanny Press. Her fiction ranges from very erotic romantic paranormal comedies to darker erotic horror stories. Her werewolf novella "Feral Heat" was Romance Divine's current #1 bestseller at AllRomanceEbooks in late 2009. She won "Best Short Horror Story" with the Preditors and Editors Poll Awards 2008 for her short erotic horror story "Sweet Spot", published by Whiskey Creek Press Torrid in its "Monster Mash" Halloween anthology. An accomplished essayist, she was the sex columnist for the pop culture e-zine nuts4chic (also U. K.) until it folded in 2008. Her articles about sex, erotica, and relationships have appeared in Good Vibrations Magazine, Alternet, CarnalNation, the Ms. Magazine Blog, Sexis Magazine, On The Issues, Sexy Mama Magazine, and Circlet blog. She also writes sex toys reviews for several sex toys companies.

STAGE SCREW

Here's an excerpt from STAGE SCREW. Sam Hightower is a stage gaffer (lighting) whose lover Grant Newsome also works the set with him. They are bisexual werewolves and open to new partners. Sam has his eye on Tyler, who is a dancer with the traveling company rehearsing onstage that day. Sam's problem is that he tends to shift into werewolf form when sexually aroused, as he is in this excerpt.

"If you keep staring at me like that I'm going to have to take you right here behind the flats."

Tyler towered over Sam, a bundle of sinew and erotic tension ready to snap if Sam so much as laid a finger on him. Gone was the shy dancer who had accosted him only hours before. The man commanded obedience. Sweat beaded on his face, arms, and chest, emitting an animalistic smell that made goosebumps ripple on Sam's arms. While he bore a striking resemblance to Grant, elegant heat and grace poured from every inch of his luscious body in ways Grant could only dream.

Tyler grabbed Sam by the front of his black t-shirt, yanked him against that firm chest, and crushed his lips against Sam's mouth. Gasping for air, Sam melted against Tyler's fevered embrace. Over his shoulder he saw the full moon out the window, and his muscles reacted to his arousal. They pulsed and lengthened, panicking Sam who didn't want to shift in the middle of the hottest kiss he'd had in months. His heart leaped as their tongues danced a duet. He fisted the lamps, arms cramping but unwilling to break their kiss to sit the lamps down. His chest cramped as it grew, threatening to tear his shirt. Sam breathed deeply, trying in vain to calm his heated arousal. Sensitive to the touch, his skin rippled at Tyler's feather-like finger brushings. Cool air chilled Sam's arms and hardened his nipples as his skin trembled in savage delight. Tyler's arms wrapped around Sam's waist, holding him as he swooned in the dancer's embrace.

Sam pressed his groin against Tyler's body. An erection strained against his leotard, pressing into Sam's thigh. Sam lifted his leg to rub his thigh against Tyler's cock, and it jumped, making Sam hitch in his breath with excitement. The lamps, heavy like restraints weighing him down, rendered him helpless.

When Tyler pulled away Sam whimpered, eager to continue their kiss, but instead of ending their embrace Tyler's lips pressed against his cheek. He ran those soft lips along Sam's jaw until they pressed against the pulse pounding in his throat.